


It's the Holiday Season...

by binkty



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Christmas prompts, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 15:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binkty/pseuds/binkty
Summary: A collection of holiday themed stories that I never got around to posting during the Ichabbie Holiday event.





	1. Ugly Sweaters and Mistletoe

Crane looks up upon hearing Abbie descend the stairs behind him and then goes back to studying his reflection in the mirror. "It's true they may be a tad garish, Lieutenant, but the needlework in these so called _ugly_ sweaters is actually quite impressive." Smoothing out the pine green wool, he admires the - rather picturesque if he is being honest - winter scene on his chest.

"Yeah well ugly sweaters are mass produced these days so the needlework is probably being done more by computer-guided machines and less by little old ladies," Abbie informs, rounding the final stair to join him in the hallway. "So, slightly less impressive." 

"Such a dependancy on machines," Crane clucks with a disapproving shake of his head. "Were they all to break down, how would anyone of your generation be able to survive?"

"Hey, yours was the generation that started the Industrial Revolution. If we're dependant on machines now it's your fault," Abbie shoots back, pointing at him as he tries and fails to hide his smile behind a mask of indignation.

"Truth be known, there did exist knitting machines in my era," he reluctantly admits and Abbie's eyebrows rise as she folds her arms across her chest. "Though they would no doubt be considered quite rudimentary when compared to those of this era." 

"Mmhmm, trying to shame us when you guys had the damn things too."

"While it's true they existed, they were few and far between," he defends. "Certainly nowhere near the scale you'd find today. I don't think there were many among us back then who could have guessed just to what degree machines would become part of one's daily life." 

"Yes, well," she allows. "Just because we've got faster, more efficient ways of doing things now doesn't mean we've completely forgotten how to do things the old ways. It would be one hell of an adjustment but I'm sure we'd be able to figure it out if we were for some reason forced to abandon machinery. We're not altogether helpless. And libraries still exist and they are filled with tones of information and we can read." She smiles and stalks closer to him. "In fact, give me the pattern and a guide on how to do it and I bet I could recreate this sweater," she says, poking his chest.

Crane smiles down at her fondly, sure in the fact that no matter the challenge Abbie Mills takes on, she will come out victorious in the end. "I've no doubt of that, Lieutenant." 

"In any event," he continues, walking away from the mirror, leaving her to follow him into the living room, "a gathering celebrating a garment in which one would never be caught at any other given time still strikes me as odd. Especially when bearing in mind the more gaudy the garment, the better." 

Abbie bites back a smile as she comes to sit beside him on the couch. "It is somewhat unconventional," she agrees. "It's kinda half nostalgia, half reclaiming our embarrassment at being forced into them as children. Wearing them now of our own choosing, under no delusions of how tacky they really are, it's fun. Sort of like watching a really bad movie that doesn't try to hide just how horrible it is. You know it's bad, they know it's bad, but nobody cares because it's the awfulness that makes it entertaining."

"So much of what is done today is done ironically."

"You know that's why you're able to wear what you wear without people looking at you weirdly a lot of the time, right? They just assume you're some hipster wearing it ironically," she teases, trying not to laugh at the affronted face he pulls.

The front door opens before Crane can reply. 

"I'd just like to say for the record that I hate snow and that it is the worst," Jenny announces in greeting. 

"Aw c'mon," Joe challenges as he enters the house at her heels. "It's not that bad. Freezing rain is worse."

"They both suck. And the people out driving in it suck even more." Shoving her hat and gloves into one of the sleeves of her jacket, Jenny then hangs the jacket up on one of the hooks by the door.

"The other drivers," Joe says as he toes off his boots. "That's your real problem. You couldn't care less about the snow."

"Ten miles per hour is way too slow. I mean it's not even snowing that hard! If they're that afraid of the snow, they shouldn't be out driving in it. Anyway," she intones, changing the subject abruptly, turning toward where Abbie and Crane have been watching the exchange with twin smiles from their respective spots on the couch. She raises one of the bags she's holding and grins, "We come bearing booze!"

"Excellent!" Crane cheers, standing to relieve her of her burden.

"And junk food," Joe adds.

"Even better. Miss Jenny, Master Joe," Crane greets in turn as they hand him their bags, then he proceeds into the kitchen. Jenny follows to help pop open a few of those bottles she's brought while Joe goes to sit on the couch with Abbie.

"Is that your phone?" Abbie asks as he sits, pointing to the object situated inside the knitted fireplace on his sweater.

"Yeah. Check this out." A few taps of the screen and the hearth lights up with a crackling fire. Abbie's eyes widen in wonder and Joe grins knowingly. "Cool, huh? The sweater came with an app."

"He's so proud of that damn thing you'd think he made it himself," Jenny grouches with no real heat and a playful roll of her eyes as she hands him one of the two drinks she's holding.

"You're just jealous because with this I've got that best ugly sweater title in the bag."

Crane reenters the room and Abbie takes the drink he offers her. "I was unaware this was to be a competition. Oh that is marvellous," he says upon seeing Joe's sweater. 

"Would you've been more willing to wear a more outlandish sweater if you were?" Abbie takes a sip of her drink and tries to hide a smile when she realizes Crane's made her exactly what she would've asked for without her even having to have asked.

"Perhaps."

"I figured you probably would've wanted to be eased into it. That's why I gave you a pretty, scenic one instead of one with literal bells and whistles." 

"Were you truly thinking of me or was it sabotage you had in mind when you chose this garment for me to where, Lieutenant?" His eyes narrow teasingly and she blinks back at him, her mouth forming a perfect O of indignation. 

"How dare you impugn my honour with such an accusation. I would never stoop to such a level in order to win something."

"Bull. Shit," Jenny laughs. "What about when you would pretend you were just being nice offering to get me some juice when we would play Battleship but really you just wanted to get behind me so you could see where I placed my ships?" Abbie takes another sip of her drink in attempt to suppress her laughter. "I thought you were psychic or something until I realized what you were doing."

"You're just mad because you didn't think to do it first. Besides, that's just what little kids do."

"Just what little kids do, huh?" Joe asks. "Then explain why you would sometimes deal from the bottom when we played War back when you used to babysit me."

"You had to learn that sometimes it's okay to lose," Abbie replies innocently. "And war takes so long and you always insisted that we had to play until the very last card was won."

"Cheating a child at cards," Crane says with mock disapproval. "Really, Lieutenant."

"You might as well face it, Abbie," Joe says, face gone sober even if the humour remains in his eyes. "Sometimes you might lean Gryffindor but deep down you know you're really Slytherin."

Abbie stares at the three people she holds closest to her heart in faux disbelief. "I invite you all into my home out of the pure goodness of my heart and this is how you treat me."

"Whatever," Jenny laughs. "You know we love your Slytherin ass anyway. And besides, it's not like you don't use your cunning for good." She pauses a moment. "You know, when you're not using it to win silly little contests, that is."

The night wears on. Jenny's garland and ornament adorned Christmas tree sweater just edges out Abbie's sequinned Christmas lights to be declared winner of best ugly sweater (Joe having been disqualified after much discussion as to whether his was just too cool to be considered ugly) and eventually Joe and Jenny grow tired and take their leave, promising to return for Christmas dinner the next day.

Crane is smoothing out a new table runner when Abbie makes her way back into the dining room after putting the old one Jenny had spilt her drink on into the laundry. He looks up as she approaches and spies something just above her head, his stare causing her to stop her in her tracks. 

"What's wrong?"

"Mistletoe."

"What?" Abbie looks up and sure enough, a sprig of mistletoe is hanging from the doorway arch right above her head. "Oh."

"No doubt placed there by Miss Jenny and Master Joe." Crane makes his way around the table so that they're both on the same side. His gaze finds its focus once again on her and a mischievous smile spreads across his face. "Shall we keep with tradition this time around, Lieutenant?"

Her eyes snap down from the mistletoe above her heads to his and she starts slightly at how close to her he's suddenly gotten. Without realizing she's doing it, her hands come up to rest against his chest and her body angles closer to him. Her gaze falls to his lips and her chin tips up toward him. Crane takes all of this as her silent permission and lowers his head to press his lips to hers.

The kiss if soft but not lacking in passion and Abbie can feel it all the way into her toes. She senses him about to pull back and lifts up on tiptoe, latching on to his shirt as she presses herself closer, keeping her mouth attached to his.

When they break apart a few moments later, his smile is warm and affectionate. He takes her hand in his and places another kiss on her knuckles. 

"Sleep well, my dear Lieutenant," he bids her.

It takes her a moment but Abbie eventually finds her voice to reply, "Goodnight, Crane."

The smile has yet to leave his lips when he gives her a differential nod and then turns toward his room.

Abbie can't remember the last time she went to sleep with excited butterflies in her stomach in anticipation of Christmas morning but as she climbs the staircase and rounds the corner into her room, she finds she can't wait to wake up and find what new gifts it will bring.


	2. Gingerbread House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff for Sweetiedee's birthday :)

Abbie was met by the familiar sight of an aproned Crane working in the kitchen when she arrived home from work. The scent of ginger hung in the air causing a smile to form on her lips.

"Something smells good in here, Crane," she called out in greeting, prompting him to spin around to face her.

"Ah Lieutenant," he beamed, quickly spinning back around to deposit the baking sheet he was holding onto the stove so that all of his focus could be given to her. "You've returned."

"I have." She dropped her things next to one of the stools at the breakfast bar and stood briefly on her toes in attempt to peek around Crane. "Whatcha making?"

Crane smiled. "Something to add a little festive cheer to our humble abode. I thought to make gingerbread to hang about the place but being as I was never the one to actually prepare it in my day, I was unsure as to the recipe. And upon _looking it up_ ," he called over his shoulder as he retrieved the cookie sheet and then turned back around once more, "I came across the practice of creating gingerbread houses." He smiled down proudly at his work and used a spatula to scoop the sections of gingerbread up and onto a cooling rack he had placed on the kitchen island.

"Well aren't you just a regular Martha Stewart."

"The lady from the wedding industry?" He lightly smacked her hand when she reached to break a piece off of what would make up the roof of the house. "I'll thank you not to eat my building materials. If you feel you must sample, take one of the would-be occupants." 

"Ugh, did you have to phrase it that way? Now I feel guilty about eating them," she pouted but reached for one of the little gingerbread men all the same. "And Martha Stewart's not just the wedding industry lady." She bit off an arm, talking around the bite as she chewed, "She's more of a jack of all crafts."

"Be that as it may, it was not from Ms. Stewart that I received these instructions but the website food network dot com. They received a score of four and a half out of five available stars so I assumed them to be the best ones to follow."

"Well they taste pretty good so there's that," Abbie said, saluting him with the last bit of the gingerbread man and then popping it into her mouth. "What are you using for glue?"

"The recipe suggests the mortar be made of royal icing," Ichabod replied. "I was just about to start preparing some while the gingerbread cooled."

"Well don't let me stop you." She turned to leave, stretching down to pick up her things as she went. "I'm gonna go grab a shower and then change into something warm and fuzzy."

"Perhaps once you've finished things will be adequately cooled enough for you to aid me in the house's construction," he suggested. 

"Sounds good," she replied, rounding the corner to continue on up the stairs.

When Abbie returned just over half an hour later, she was wearing snowflake adorned fleece pyjama bottoms and a quarter zip pullover and had her hair wrapped up in a scarf.

Crane smiled at the sight of her. "You certainly look comfortable." He had the icing made and everything they would need to pipe it onto the slabs of gingerbread already laid out. 

"I said I was going to change into something warm and fuzzy," she shrugged, coming to sit beside him at the island. "Barring anything Witness related, I'm not planning on going anywhere so if I feel like wearing pyjamas for the rest of the night, you're damn right I'm going to."

Crane gave her a nod of approval. "As well you should."

"So how do we go about doing this, Crane?" Abbie asked, turning their focus back to the task at hand. "I assume we're using some kind of base to put it on and we're not just sticking it to the counter."

"Indeed." He picked up a medium sized foil covered square from the far end of the island and placed it front of her. "I've repurposed the lid of the box from which we ate last night's dinner for precisely that end. It was suggested it be covered in aluminum foil. For artistic purposes, I presume."

"It will look a lot nicer having a clean silver base than a dingy brown one complete with writing and a picture of a pizza. Okay," she said, pushing up her sleeves a little, "Hand me one of the walls and some icing, Crane. Time to build us a gingerbread house." 

He did as she asked, filling a piping bag and passing it over to her and then filling another for himself.

"I've never done this before," Abbie admitted as she piped a line of icing near the back edge of their base. 

Crane piped icing onto the bottom of one of the walls and handed it to Abbie. "Truly?" 

"Yeah. Always wanted to though. One of those classic holiday activities. Families gathered around to decorate a gingerbread house," she said, pressing the two lines of icing together and holding the wall of gingerbread there. "When I was little I'd always eye those kits they have in the grocery store every Christmas and think one day. One day never came for me though." She took her hands away and grinned when the wall stayed upright. "Until now."

"A practice in which you've been longing to partake and I just happen to stumble upon it," Crane smiled. "How serendipitous." 

Abbie turned her gaze to his and returned his smiled. "Yeah."

They worked in tandem, icing the seams and then placing the sections of gingerbread onto their base, and soon had the structure of the house completed. They were putting together the chimney before adding it to the roof when the roof started sliding off the walls.

"Oh no! It's slipping! It's slipping!" Abbie shrieked with panicked amusement.

"Quickly!" Crane's hands went to right the two sides of the roof before they could slide off entirely, holding them in place. "I'll hold it secure while you add more icing, Lieutenant."

Abbie grabbed one of the piping bags and started trying to reinforce the seams.

"The gingerbread, Lieutenant, if you please," Crane groused good-naturedly. "Not my fingers."

"I'm trying," she laughed. "If you didn't have such big ass fingers…"

"These big ass fingers, as you so colourfully dubbed them, allow me to firmly press upon all the perfect spots along the top of your walls."

Finished with her reinforcement, Abbie stared up at Crane, wondering if he realized how what he just said sounded. Judging by the reddish tinge to his cheeks and the way he was studiously avoiding her gaze as he stared at his hands on the roof of the gingerbread house, she suspected so.

She looked away again as she deposited the piping bag back onto the countertop, biting back a grin. 

"I think it's sufficiently set enough to not slide off again now," Abbie smiled a moment later when Crane continued to just watch his hands hold the roof in place.

Crane nodded, glancing over at her and smiling bashfully. "Right." 

Carefully, he pulled his hands away, his icing covered fingers twitching just above the newly secured roof.

"I should probably… the icing…" he stammered, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen sink. 

But before he could get up, Abbie grabbed his hand in a sudden burst of inspiration and took his fingers into her mouth, sucking the icing off. Now it was Crane's turn to stare at her in shock. 

"Waste not, want not," she purred after she removed his fingers, mouth splitting into an coquettish grin. When he continued to do nothing more than stare in stunned silence, she began to worry she misinterpreted his earlier slip and messed things up. 

The smiled faded from her face. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I just –" 

Crane surged forward, silencing the rest of her apology with his mouth on hers. Abbie let out a squeak of surprise but quickly relaxed into the kiss. Her hands came up to frame his face, fingers stroking through his beard. 

"Forgive my delayed response," he breathed after pulling back slightly. "I needed a moment to rectify this was reality and not fantasy."

Abbie unsuccessfully fought a smile. "You've had fantasies about me doing that?"

"I hope you'll not think me a cad but if I'm to be honest, I've had very many fantasies about you doing very many things," he replied. "As well as about myself doing very many things to you."

"How can I think badly of you when I'm guilty of the same thoughts?" Abbie grinned, heart swelling at the look of utter delight that spread across Crane's face. She leaned in and pressed another kiss to his smiling lips. 

"I think this stuff will keep until tomorrow," she pulled back to say before kissing him again.

"Indeed," Crane concurred. "And we really should allow the base to fully set before we attempt to start adding on to it."

"Exactly. We don't want the roof falling off again," she added, nodding. "In fact, we should probably just call it a night."

"I wholeheartedly agree." 

In a flash, Crane had all the leftover icing tucked away in the fridge and was standing in front of Abbie with his hand outstretched. 

"Might I escort you to your room?"

Abbie smiled and took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "How can I deny such a polite offer?"

Giggling, Abbie took off toward the stairs with an equally gleeful Crane following close behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it took me longer to finish this than I thought it would I can now say with this update Happy Birthday to Team Hellion and Thymelady too :)


End file.
